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AN 



ADDRESS 



DELIVERED AT THE COMPLETION 



OF THS 



BUNKER HILL MONUMENT, 



JUNE 17, 1843, 



By DANIEL WEBSTER. 



BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED BY TAPPAN AND DENNET, 

U4 Washington Street. 

1843. 



■ %r 



ADDRESS 



DELIVERED AT THE COMPLETION OF THE BUNKER HILL MONU- 
MENT, JUNT: 17, 1843. 



A DUTY has been performed. A work of gratitude and patriot- 
ism is completed. This structure, having its foundations in soil, 
which drank deep of early revolutionary blood, has at length 
reached its destined height, and now lifts its summit to the skies. 

We have assembled to celebrate the accomplishment of this 
undertaking, and to indulge, afresh, in the recollection of the great 
event, which it is designed to commemorate. Eighteen years, 
more than hai^ the ordinary duration of a generation of mankind, 
have elapsed, since tlie corner stone of this monument was laid. 
The hopes of its projectors rested on voluntary contributions, pri- 
vate munificence, and the general favor of the public. These 
hopes have not been disappointed. Donations have been made 
by individuals, in some cases of large amount, and smaller sums 
contributed by thousands. All who regard the object itself as 
important, and its accomplishment, therefore, as a good attained, 
will entertain sincere respect and gratitude for the unwearied 
efforts of the successive Presidents, Boards of Directors, and Com- 
mittees of the Association, which has had the general control of the 
work. The Architect, equally entitled to our thanks and com- 
mendation, will find other reward, also, for his labor and skill, in 
the beauty and elegance of the obelisk itself, and the distinction 
which, as a work of art, it confers on him. 

At a period when the prospects of further progress in the under- 
taking were gloomy and discouraging, the Mechanic Association, 
by a most praiseworthy and vigorous effort, raised new funds for 
carrying it forward, and saw them applied with fidelity, economy 
and skill. It is a grateful duty to make public acknowledgments 
of such timely and efficient aid. 

The last effort, and the last contribution, were from a different 
source. Garlands of grace and elegance were destined to crown a 
work, which had its commencement in manly patriotism. The 



winning power of the sex addressed itself to the public, and all that 
was needed to carry the monument to its proposed height, and give 
to it its finish, was promptly supplied. The mothers and the 
daughters of the land conlribuled thus, most successfully to what- 
ever of beauty is in the obelisk itself, or whatever of utility and 
public benefit and gratification in its completion. 

Of those, with whom the plan of erecting on this spot a monu- 
ment, worthy of the event to be commemorated, originated, many 
are now present ; but others, alas ! have themselves become sub- 
jects of monumental inscription. William Tudor, an accomplished 
scholar, a distinguished writer, a most amiable man, allied, both by 
birth and sentiment, to the patriots of the Revolution, died, while 
on public service abroad, and now lies buried in a foreign land. 
William Sullivan, a name fragrant of Revolutionary merit, and of 
public service and public virtue, who himself partook, in a high 
degree, of the respect and confidence of the coinmunity, and yet 
was always most loved where best known, has also been gathered to 
his fathers. And last, George Blake, a lawyer of learning and elo- 
quence, a man of wit and of talent, of social qualities the most 
agreeable and fascinating, and of gifts which enabled him to exer- 
cise large sway over public assemblies, has closed his human 
career. I know that in the crowds before me, there are those, 
from whose eyes copious tears will flow, at the mention of these 
names. Ikit such mention is due to their general character, their 
public and private virtues, and es[)ecially on this occasion, to the 
spirit and zeal, with which they entered into the undertaking, 
which is now completed. 

I have spoken only of those who arc not now numbered with the 
living. But a long life, now drawing towards its close, always dis- 
tinguished by acts of public spirit, humanity, and charity, forming 
a character, which has already become historical, and sanctified 
by public regard, and by the affection of friends, may confer, even 
on the living, the proper immunity of the dead, and be the fit sub- 
ject of honorable mention, and warm commendation. Of the early 
projectors of the design of this monument, one of the most promi- 
nent, the most zealous, and the most efficient, is Thomas H. Per- 
kins. It was beneath his ever hospitable roof that those whom I 
have mentioned, and others yet living and now present, having as- 
sembled for the purpose, adopted the first step towards erecting a 
monument on Bunker Hill. Long may he remain, with unim- 
paired faculties, in the wide field of his usefulness. His charities 
have distilled, like the dews of heaven ; he has fed the hungry, 
and clothed the naked: he has given sight to the blind ; and for 
such virtues there is a reward on high, of which all human memo- 
rials, all language of brass and stone, are but humble types and 
attempted imitations. 

Time and nature have had their course, in diminishing the num- 
ber of those whom we met here on the 17lh of June, 1825. Most 
of the revolutionary characters then present have since deceased, 
and Lafayette sleeps in his native land. Yet the name and blood 



of Warren are with us ; the kindred of Putnam are also here ; and 
near me, universally beloved for his character and his virtues, and 
now venerable for his years, sits the son of the noble-hearted and 
darins; Prescott. Gideon Foster of Danvers, Enos Reynolds of 
Boxford, Pliineas Johnson, Robert Andrews, Elijah Dresser, Josiah 
CIcaveland, Jesse Smith, Philip Bagley, Needham Maynard, Roger 
Plaisted, Joseph Stephens, Nehemiah Porter, and James Harvey, 
who bore arms for llieir country, either at Concord and Lexington, 
on tiie 19th of April, or on Bunker Hill, all now far advanced in 
age, have come here to-day, to look once more on the field of the 
exercise of their valor, and to receive a hearty outpouring of our 
respect. 

They have long outlived tlie troubles and dangers of the Revolu- 
tion ; they have outlived the evils arising from the want of a united 
and efficient Government ; they have outlived the pendency of im- 
minent dancers to the public liberty; Ihey have outlived nearly all 
their contemporaries ; but they have not outlived — they cannot 
outlive — the affectionate gratitude of their country. Heaven has 
not allotted to this generation an opportunity of rendering high ser- 
vices, and manifesting strong personal devotion, such as they ren- 
dered and manifested, and in such a cause as roused the patriotic 
fires of their youthful breasts, and nerved the strength of their arms. 
But we may praise what we cannot equal, and celebraie actions 
which we were not born to perform. Pulchrum est benefacere rei- 
publiccE, etiam bene dicere Itaud absurduin est. 

The Bunker Hill Monument is finished. Here it stands. Fortu- 
nate in the natural eminence on which it is placed — higher, infi- 
nitely higher in its objects and pm-pose, it rises over the land, and 
over the sea, and visii)le, at their homes, to three hundred thou- 
sand citizens of Massachusetts, — it stands, a memorial of the last, 
and a monitor to the present, and all succeeding generations. I 
have spoken of the loftiness of its pur|)ose. If it had been without 
any other design than the creation of a work of art, the granite, of 
which it is composed, would have slept in its native bed. It has a 
purpose ; and that purpose gives it character. That purpose en- 
robes it with dignity and moral grandeur. That well known pur- 
pose it is, which causes us to look up to it with a feeling of awe. It 
is itself the orator of this occasion, it is not from my lips, it is not 
from any human lips, that that strain of eloquence is this day to 
flow, most competent to move and excite the vast multitudes around. 
The potent speaker stands motionless before them. It is a plain 
shaft. It bears no inscriptions, fronting to the rising sun, from 
which the future antiquarian shall wipe the dust. Nor does the 
rising sun cause tones of music to issue from its summit. But at 
the rising of the sun, and at the setting of the sun, in the blaze of 
noon-day, and beneath the milder effulgence of lunar light, it looks, 
it speaks, it acts, to the full comprehension of every American 
mitid, and the awakening of glowing enthusiasm in every Ameri- 
can lieart. Its silent, but awful utterance; its deep pathos, as it 
brings to our contemplation the 17ih of June, 1775, and the conse- 



quences which have resulted to us, to our country, and to the world, 
from the events of that day, and which we know must continue to 
rain influence on the destinies of mankind, to the end of time ; the 
elevation with which it raises us high above the ordinary feelings of 
life, surpass all that the study of the closet, or even the inspiration 
of genius can produce. To-day, it speaks to us. Its future audi- 
tories will be through successive generations of men, as they rise 
up before it, and gather round it. Its speech will be of patriotism 
and courage ; of civil and religious liberty; of free government; 
of the moral improvement and elevation of mankind ; and cf the 
immortal memory of those who with heroic devotion have sacrificed 
their lives for their country. 

In the older world, numerous fabrics still exist, reared by human 
hands, but whose object has been lost, in the darkness of ages. 
They are now monuments of nothing, but the labor and skill, 
which constructed them. 

The mighty pyramid itself, half buried in the sands of Africa, 
has nothing to bring down and report to us, but the power of kings 
and the servitude of the people. If it had any purpose beyond that 
of a mausoleum, such purpose has perished from history, and from 
tradition. If asked for its moral object, its admonition, its senti- 
ment, its instruction to mankind, or any high end in its erection, it 
is silent — silent as the millions which lie in the dust at its base, 
and in the catacombs which surround it. Without a just moral 
object, therefore, made known to man, though raised against the 
skies, it excites only conviction of power, mixed with strange won- 
der. But if the civilization of the present race of men, founded as 
it is, in solid science, the true knowledge of nature, and vast dis- 
coveries in art, and which is stimulated and purified by moral 
sentiment, and by the truths of Christianity, be not destined to 
destruction, before the final termination of human existence on 
earth, the object and purpose of this edifice will be known, till that 
hour shall come. And even if civilization should be subverted, and 
the truths of the Christian Religion obscured by a new deluge of 
barbarism, the memory of Bunker Hill and the American Revolu- 
tion will still be elements and parts of the knowledge, which shall 
be possessed by the last man, to whom the light of civilization and 
Christianity shall be extended. 

This celebration is honored by the presence of the Chief Execu- 
tive Magistrate of the Union. An occasion so National in its object 
and character, and so much connected with that Revolution, from 
which the Government sprang, at the head of which he is placed, 
may well receive from him this mark of attention and respect. 
Well acquainted with Yorktown, the scene of the last great military 
strufTo-le of the Revolution, his eye now surveys the field of Bunker 
Hill, the theatre of the first of these important conflicts. He sees 
where ^Varren fell, where Putnam and Prescott and Stark and 
Knowlton and Brooks fouiiht. He beholds the spot, Avhere a thou- 
sand trained soldiers of England were smitten to the earth, in the 
first effort of Revolutionary war, by the arm of a bold and deter- 



mined yeomanry, contending for liberty and their country. And 
while all assembled here entertain towards him sincere personal 
good wishes, and the high respect due to his elevated office and 
station, it is not to be doubted, that he enters, with true American 
feelinor, into the patriotic enthusiasm, kindled by the occasion, 
which animates the m.illions which surround him. 

His Excellency, the Governor of the Commonwealth, the Gov- 
ernor of Rhode Island, and the other distinguished public men, 
whom we have the honor to receive as visitors and guests, to-day, 
will cordially unite in a celebration connected with the great event 
of the Revolutionary war. 

No name in the history of 1775 and 1776 is more distinguished 
than that of an ex-President of the United States, whom we expect- 
ed to see here, but whose ill health prevents his attendance. When- 
€ver popular rights were to be asserted, an Adams was present; 
and when the time came, for the formal Declaration of Independ- 
ence, it was the voice of an Adams, that shook the Halls of Con- 
gress. We wish we could have welcomed to us, this day, the 
inheritor of Revolutionary blood, and the just and worthy Repre- 
sentative of high Revolutionary names, merit and services. 

Banners and badges, processions and flags, announce to us, that 
amidst this uncounted multitude are thousands of natives of New 
England, now residents in other States. Welcome, ye kindred 
names, with kindred blood ! From the broad savannas of the 
South, from the newer regions of the West, from amidst the hun- 
dreds of thousands of men of Eastern origin, who cultivate the rich 
valley of the Genesee, or live along the chain of the Lakes, from 
the mountains of Pennsylvania, and the thronged cities of the coast, 
welcome, welcome I Wherever else you may be strangers, here 
you are all at home. You assemble at this shrine of liberty, near 
the family altars, at which your earliest devotions were paid to 
Heaven ; near to the temples of worship, first entered by you, and 
near to the schools and colleges, in which your education was re- 
ceived. You come hither with a glorious ancestry of Liberty. 
You bring names, which are on the rolls of Lexington, Concord and 
Bunker Hill. You come, some of you, once more to be embraced 
by an aged Revolutionary father, or to receive another, perhaps, a 
last blessing, bestowed in love and tears, by a mother, yet surviving 
to witness, and to enjoy, your prosperity and happiness. 

But if family associations and the recollections of the past, bring 
you hither with greater alacrity, and mingle with your greeting 
much of local attachment, and private affection, greeting also be 
given, free and hearty greeting, to every American citizen who 
treads this sacred soil with patriotic feeling, and respires with 
pleasure in an atmosphere fragrant with the recollections of 1775. 
This occasion is respectable — nay, it is grand, it is sublime, by 
the nationality of its sentiment. In the seventeen millions of hap- 
py people, who form the American community, there is not one 
who has not an interest in this Monument, as there is not one that 
has not a deep and abiding interest in that which it commemorates. 



Woe betide the man, who brings to this day's worship feeling 
less than wholly American ! Woe betide the man, who can stand 
here with the fires of local resentments burning, or the purpose of 
fomenting local jealousies, and the strifes of local interests, fester- 
ing and rankling in his heart. Union, founded in justice, in patri- 
otism, and the most plain and obvious common interest ; union, 
founded on the same love of liherly, cemented by blood shed in the 
same common cause ; union has been the source of all our glory 
and greatness thus far, and is the ground of all our highest hopes. 
This column stands on Union. I know not that it might not keep 
its position, if the American Union, in the mad conflict of human 
passions, and in the strife of parties and factions, should be broken 
up and destroyed. I know not that it would totter and fall to the 
earih, and mingle its fragments with the fragments of Liberty and 
the Constitution, when State should be separated from State, and 
faction and dismemberment obliterate forever all the hopes of the 
founders of our Republic, and the great inheritance of their child- 
ren. It might stand. But who, from beneath the weight of morti- 
fication and shame, that would oppress him, could look up to be- 
hold it t For my part, should I live to such a time, I shall avert 
my eyes from it forever. 

It is not as a mere military encounter of hostile armies, that the 
battle of Bunker Hill founds its principal claim to attention. Yet, 
even as a mere battle, there were circumstances attending it, extra- 
ordinary in character and entitling it to peculiar distinction. It 
was fought on this eminence ; in the neighborhood of yonder city ; 
in the presence of more spectators than there were combatants in 
the conflict. Men, women and children, from every commanding 
position, were gazing at the battle and looking for its result with all 
the eagerness natural to those who knew that the issue was fraught 
with the deepest consequences to them. Yet, on the sixteenth of 
June, 1775, there was nothing around this hill but verdure and 
culture. There was, indeed, the note of awful preparation in Bos- 
ton. There was the provincial army at Cambridge with its right 
flank resting on Dorchester, and its left on Chelsea. But here all 
was peace. Tranquillity reigned around. 

On the seventeenth every thmg was changed. On yonder height 
had arisen, in the night, a redoubt in which Prescott commanded. 
Perceived by the enemy at dawn, it was immediately cannonaded 
from the floating batteries in the river, and the opposite shore. 
And then ensued the hurry of preparation in Boston, and soon the 
troops of Britain embarked in the attempt to dislodge the colonists. 

I suppose it would be difEcult, in a military point of view, to 
ascribe to the leaders on either side, any just motive for the conflict 
which followed. On the one hand it could not have been very im- 
portant to the Americans to attempt to hem the British within the 
town by advancing one single post a quarter of a mile ; while oa 
the other hand, if the British found it essential to dislodge the 
American troops, they had it in their power, at no expense of life. 
By raoviag up their ships and batteries, ihey could have completely 



9 

cut off all communication with the main land over the neck, and 
the forces in the redoubt would have been reduced to a state of 
famine in forty-eight hours. 

But that was not the day for any such considerations on either 
side ! Both parties were anxious to try the strength of their arms. 
The pride of England would not permit the rebels, as she termed 
them, to defy her to the teeth, and without for a moment calcu- 
laiinjT the cost, the British General determined to destroy the fort 
immediately. On the other side, Prescott and his gallant followers 
longed and thirsted for a conflict. They wished it, and wished 
it at once. And this is the true secret of the movements on this 
hili. 

I will not attempt to describe the battle. The cannonading — the 
landing of the British — their advance — the coolness with which 
the charge was met — the repulse — the second attack — the 
second repulse — the burning of Charlestown — and finally the 
closing assault, and the slow retreat of the Americans — the history 
of all these is familiar. 

But the consequences of the battle of Bunker Hill are greater 
than those of any conflict between the hostile armies of European 
powers. It was the first great battle of the Revolution ; and not 
only the first blow, but the blow which determined the contest. It 
did not, indeed, put an end to the war, but in the then existing hos- 
tile state of feeling, the difficulties could only be referred to the 
arbitration of the sword. And one thing is certain ; that after the 
New England troops had shown themselves able to face and re- 
pulse the regulars, it was decided that peace never could be estab- 
lisiied but upon the basis of the Independence of the colonics. 
When the sun of that day went down, the event of independence 
was certain ! When \^ ashingfon heard of the battle he inquired if 
the militia had stood the fire of the regulars.' And when told that 
they had not only stood that fire, but reserved their own till the 
enemy was within eight rods, and then poured it in with tremen- 
dous efi^'ijct — "then," exclaimed he, " the liberties of the country 
are safe ! '* 

The consequences of this battle were just of the same importance 
as the Revolution itself. 

If there was nothing of value in the principles of the American 
Revolution, then there is nothing valuable in ihe battle of Bunker 
Hill and its consequences. But if the Revolution was an era in 
the history of man, favorable to human happiness — if it was an 
event which marked the progress of man, all over the world, from 
despotism to liberty — then this monument is not raised without 
cause. Then, the battle of Bunker Hill is not an event undeserv- 
ing celebrations, commemorations and rejoicing.s. 

What then is the true and peculiar principle of the American 
Revolution, and of the systems of government which it has con- 
firmed and established .- Now the truth is, that the American 
Revolution was not caused by the instantaneous discovery of prin- 
ciples of government before unheard of, or the practicable adoption 
2 



10 

of political ideas, such as had never before entered into the minds 
of men. It was but the full development of principles of govern- 
ment, forms of society, and political sentiments, the origin of all 
which lay back two centuries in English and American history. 

The discovery of America, its colonization by the nations of 
Europe, the history and progress of the colonies, from their estab- 
lishment, to the time when the principal of them threw off their 
allegiance to the respective States which had planted them, and 
founded governments of their own, constitute one of the most inter- 
esting trains of events in human annals. These events occupied 
three hundred years ; during which period civilization and knowl- 
edge made steady progress in the old world ; so that Europe, at 
the commencement of the nineteenth century, had become greatly 
changed from that Europe which began the colonization of Amer- 
ica at the commencement of the fifteenth. And what is most 
material to my present purpose is, that in the progress of the first 
of these centuries, that is to say, from the discovery of America to 
the settlements of Virginia and Massachusetts, political and reli- 
gious events took place, which most materially affected the state of 
society, and the sentiments of mankind, especially in England, and 
in parts of Continental Europe. After a few feeble and unsuccess- 
ful efforts by England, under Henry the Seventh, to plant colonies 
in America, no designs of that kind were prosecuted for a long 
period, either by the English government, or any of its subjects. 
Without inquiring into the causes of this long delay, its conse- 
quences are sufficiently clear and striking. England in this lapse 
of a century, unknown to herself but under the Providence of God, 
and the influence of events, was fitting herself for the work of 
colonizing North America, on such principles, and by such men, 
as should spread the English name and English blood, in time, over 
a great portion of the Western hemisphere. The commercial 
spirit was greatly encouraged by several laws passed in Henry the 
Seventh's reign ; and in the same reign encouragement was given 
to arts and manufactures in the Eastern countries, and some not 
unimportant modifications of the Feudal system, by allowing the 
breaking of entails. These, and other measures, and other occur- 
rences, were making way fur a new class of society to emerge, 
and show itself in a military and feudal age. A middle class, 
neither Barons nor great landholders on the one side, nor the mere 
retainers of the Crown, nor Barons nor mere agricultural laborers 
on the other. With the rise and growth of this new class of society, 
not only did commerce and the arts increase, but bettor education, 
a greater degree of knowledge, juster notions of the true ends of 
government, and sentiments favorable to civil liberty, began to 
spread abroad, and become more and more common. But the 
plants springing from these seeds, were of slow growth. The 
character of English society had indeed begun to undergo a change ; 
but changes of national character are ordinarily the work of time. 
Operative causes were, however, evidently in existence, and sure 
to produce, ultimately, their proper effect. From the accession of 



li 

Henry Seventh, to the breaking out of the civil wars, England 
enjoyed much more exemption from war, foreign and donu;stic, 
than for a long period before, and during llie controversy between 
the houses of York and Lancaster, These years of peace were 
favorable to commerce and the arts. Commerce and the arts 
augmented general and individual knowledge ; and knowledge is 
the only first fountain, both of the love, and the principles of hu- 
man liberty. Other powerful causes soon came into active play. 
The reformation of Luther broke out, kindling up the minds of mea 
afresh, leading to new habils of thougiit, and awakening in individ- 
uals energies before unknown even to themselves. The re/igious 
controversies of this period changed society as well as religion ; 
indeed, it would be easy to prove, if this occasion were proper fur 
it, that they changed society to a considerable extent, where they 
did not change the religion of the State. The spirit of commercial 
and foreign adventure, therefore, on the one hand, which had 
gained so much strength and influence, since the time of the dis- 
covery of America, and, on the other, the assertion and mainten- 
ance of religious liberty, having their source indeed in the Reform- 
ation, but continued, diversified, and continually strengthened by 
the subsequent divisions of sentiment and opinion among the re- 
formers themselves, and this love of religious liberty drawing after 
them, or bringing along with them, as they always do, an ardent 
devotion to the principle of civil liberty, were the powerful influ- 
ences, under which character was formed, and men trained for the 
great work of introducing English civilization, English law, and 
what is more than all, Anglo-Saxon blood, into the wilderness of 
North America. Raleigh and his companions may be c"onsidered as 
the creatures, principally, of the first of these causes.' Fligh-spirited, 
full of the love of personal adventure, excited too, in some degree, by 
the hopes of sudden riches from the discovery of mines of the pre- 
cious metals, and not unwilling to diversify the labors of settling a col- 
ony with occasional cruising against the Spaniards in the West Indian 
seas, they crossed and recrossed the oce.in, with a frequency which 
surprizes us, when we consider the state of navigation, and which 
evincesamost daringspirit. The othercause peopled New England. 
The May-Flower sought our shores under no high-wrought spirii of 
commercial adventure, no love of gold, no mixture of purpose, war- 
like or hostile, to any human being. Like the dove from the ark, 
she had put forth only to find rest. Solemn prayers from the 
shores of the sea in Holland, had invoked for her, at her departure, 
the blessings of Providence. The stars which guided her were the 
unobscured constellations of civil and religious liberty. Her deck 
was the altar of the liviig God. Fervent prayers from bended 
knees, mingled, morning and evening, with the voices of ocean, 
and the sighing of the wind in her shrouds. Every prosperous 
breeze, which, gently swelling her sails, helped the Pilgrims on- 
ward in their course, awoke new anthems of praise ; and when the 
elements were wrought into fury, neither the tempest, tossing their 
fragile bark like a feather, nor the darkness and liowling of the 



12 

midnight storm, ever disturbed, in man or woman, the firm and set- 
tled purpose of their souls, to undergo all, and to do all, that the 
meekest patience, the boldest resolution, and the highest trust in 
God, could enable human beings to suffer or to perform. 

Some difl^erences may, doubtless be traced at this day, between 
Ihe descendants of tlie early colonists of Virginia and those of New 
England, owing to the diiferent influences and different circum- 
stances under which the respective settlements were made. But 
only enough to create a pleasing variety in the midst of a general 
resemblance. 

" fades, non omnibus una, 

" Ncc diversa tamen, qualem decet esse sororem." 

But the habits, sentiments, and objects of both, soon became modi- 
fied by local causes, growing out of their condition in the New 
World ; and as this condition was essentially alike in both, and as 
both at once adopted the same general rules and principles of Eng- 
lish jurisprudence, these differences gradually diminished. They 
gradually disappeared by the progress of time, and the influence 
of intercourse. The necessity of some degree of union and coop- 
eration to defend themselves against the savage tribes, tended to 
excite in them mutual respect and regard. They fought together 
in the wars against France. The great and common cause of the 
Revolution bound them together by new links of brotherhood ; and 
finally, fortunately, happily, and gloriously, the present form of 
government united them to form the Great Republic of the World, 
and bound up their interest and fortunes, till the whole earth 
sees that there is now for them, in present possession, as well as 
future hope, only " One Country, One Constitution, and One Des- 
tiny" 

The colonization of the tropical region, and the whole of the 
Southern parts of the Continent, by Spain and Portugal, was con- 
ducted on other principles, under the influence of otiier motives, 
and followed by far different consequences. From the time of its 
discovery, the Spanish Governm.ent pushed forward its settlements 
in America, not only with vigor, but with eagerness ; so that long 
before the first permanent English settlement had been accomplish- 
ed, in what is now the United States, Spain had conquered Mexico, 
Peru, and Chili ; and stretched her power over nearly all the terri- 
tory she ever acquired in this continent. The rapidity of these 
conquests is to be ascribed in a great degree, to the eagerness, not 
to say the rapacity of those numerous bands of adventurers who 
were stimulated to subdue immense regions, and take possession of 
them in the name of the crown of Spain. The mines of gold and 
silver were the excitements to these eflijrts, and accordingly settle- 
ments were generally made, and Spanish authority established on 
the immediate eve of the subjugation of territory, that the native 
population might be set to work by their new Spam'sh masters, in 
the mines. From these facts, the love of gold — gold not pro- 
duced by industry, nor accumulated by commerce, but gold dug 
from its native bed in the bowels of the earth, and that earth rav- 



13 

ished from its righlfiil possessors by every possible degree of enor- 
mity, cruelty, and crime, was long the governing passion in Span* 
ish wars, and Spanish settlements, in America. Even Columbus 
himself did not wholly escape the influence of this base motive. 
In his early voyages we find him passing from island to island, in- 
quiring everywhere for gold ; as if God had opened the new world 
to the knowledge of the old, only to gratify a passion equally sense- 
less and sordid ; and to offer up millions of an unoffending race of 
men to the destruction of the sword, sharpened both by cruelty and 
rapacity. And yet Columbus was far above his age and country. 
Enthusiastic, indeed, but sober, religious, and magnanimous ; born 
to great things and capable of high sentiments, as his noble dis- 
course before Ferdinand and Isabella, as well as the whole history 
of his life, shows. Probably he sacrificed much to the known sen- 
timents of others, and addressed to his followers motives likely to 
influence them. At the same time it is evident that he himself 
looked upon the world which he discovered as a world of wealth, 
all ready to be seized and enjoyed. 

The conquerors and the European settlers of Spanish America 
were mainly military commanders and common soldiers. The 
monarchy of Spain was not transferred to this hemisphere, but it 
acted in it, as it acted at home, through its ordinary means, and its 
true representative, military force. The robbery and destruction 
of the native race was the achievement of standing armies, in the 
right of the king, and by his authority ; fighting in his name, for 
the aggrandizement of his power, and the extension of his prerog- 
atives; with military ideas under arbitrary maxims, a portion of 
that dreadful instrumentality by which a perfect despotism governs 
a people. As there was no liberty in Spain, how could liberty be 
transmitted to Spanish colonies ? 

The colonists of English America were of the people, and a 
people already free. They were of the middle, industrious, and 
already prosperous class, the inhabitants of commercial and manu- 
facturing cities, among whom liberty first revived and respired, af- 
ter a sleep of a thousand years in the bosom of the dark ages. 
Spain descended on the new world in the armed and terrible image 
of her monarchy and her soldiery; England approached it in the 
winning and popular garb of personal rights, public protection and 
civil freedom. England transplanted liberty to America; Spain 
transplanted power. England, through the agency of private com- 
panies, and the efforts of individuals, colonized this part of North 
America, by industrious individuals, making their own way in the 
wilderness, defending themselves asainst the savages, recoiinising 
their right to the soil, and with a general honest purpose of intro- 
ducing knowledge as well as Christianity among them. Sp.'un 
stooped on South America, like a falcon on its prey. Everything 
was gone. Territories were acquirc^l, by fire and sword. Cities 
were destroyed by fire and sword. Hundreds of thousands of hu- 
man beings fell by fire and sword. Even conversion lo Christian- 
ity was attempted by fire and sword. 



14 

Behold, then, fellow-citizens, the difference resulting from the 
operation of the two principles! Here, to-day, on the summit of 
Bunker Hill, and at the foot of the monument, behold the tliffer- 
ence ! I would, that the fifty thousand voices present could pro- 
claim it, witli a shout which should bo heard over the globe. Our 
inheritance was of liberty, secured and regulated by law, and en- 
lightened by religion and knowledge; that of South-America was 
of power, stern, unrelenting, tyrannical, military power. And look 
to the results, on the general and aggregate happiness of the human 
race. And behold the results, in all the regions conquered by Cortez 
and Pizarro, and the contrasted results here. 1 suppose the terri- 
tory of the United States may amount to one eighth or one tenth of 
that colonized by Spain on this continent, and yet in all that vast 
region there are but between one and two millions of European 
color and European blood ; while in the United States there are 
fourteen millions who rejoice in their descent from the people of 
the more northern part of Europe. 

But we follow the difference, in the original principle of coloni- 
zation, and in its character and objects, still further. We must 
look to moral and intellectual results; we must consider consequen- 
ces, not only as they show themselves in the greater or less multi- 
plication of men or the supplj' of their physical wants — but in their 
civilization, improvement and happiness we must inquire what pro- 
gress has been made in the true science of liberty, and in the know- 
ledge of the great principles of self-government. 

1 would not willingly say anything on this occasion, discourteous 
to the new governments, founded on the demolition of the power of 
the Spanish monarchy. They are yet on their trial, and I hope 
for a favorable result. But truth, sacred truth, and fidelity to the 
cause of civil liberty, compels me to say, that hitherto they have, 
discovered quite too much of the spirit of that monarchy, from 
which they separated themselves. Quite too frequent resort is 
made to military force ; and quite too much of the substance of the 
people consumed, in maintaining armies, not for defence against 
foreign aggression only, but for enforcing obedience to domestic 
authority. Standing armies are the oppressive instruments for gov- 
erning the people, in the hands of hereditary and arbitrary mon- 
archs. A military republic, a government founded on mock elec- 
tions, and supported only by the sword, is a movement indeed, but 
a retrograde and disastrous movement, from the monarchical sys- 
tems. If men would enjoy the blessings of Republican government, 
they must govern themselves by reason, by mutual counsel and 
consultation, by a sense and feeling of general interest, and by the 
acquiescence of the minority in the will of the majority, properly 
expressed ; and above all, the military must be kept, according to 
the language of our bill of rights, in strict subordination to the civil 
authority. Wherever this lesson is not both learned and practised, 
there can be no political freedom. Absurd, preposterous is it — a 
scofl' and a satire on free forms of constitutional liberty, for consti- 
tutions and frames of government to be prescribed by military lead- 



15 

ers, and the right of suffrage to be exercised at the point of the 
sword. 

Making all allowance for situation and climate, it cannot be 
doubted by intelligent minds, that the difference now existing be- 
tween North and South America is justly attributable, in a degree, 
to political institutions. And how broad that difference is! Sup- 
pose an assembly, in one of the valleys, or on the side of one of 
the mountains of the southern half of the hemisphere, to be held, 
this day, in the neighborhood of a large city ;~what would be the 
scene presented ? Yonder is a volcano, flaming and smoking, but 
shedding no light, moral or intellectual. At its foot is the mine, 
yielding, perhaps, sometimes, large gains to capital, but in which 
labor is destined to eternal and unrequited toil, and rewarded only 
by penury and beggary. The city is filled with armed men ; not 
a free people, armed and. coming forth voluntarily to rejoice in a 
public festivity ; but hireling troops, supported by forced loans, ex- 
cessive impositions on commerce, or taxes wrung from a half fed, 
and a half clothed population. For the great there are palaces cov- 
ered with gold ; for the poor there are hovels of the meanest sort. 
There is an ecclesiastical hierarcliy enjoying the wealth of princes ; 
but there are no means of education to the people. Do public im- 
provements favor intercourse between place and place } So far 
from this, that the traveller cannot pass from town to town, without 
danger, every mile, of robbery and assassination. I would not 
overcharge, or exaggerate this picture ; but its principal sketches 
are all too true. 

And how does it contrast with the scene now actually before us ? 
Look round upon these fields; they are verdant and beautiful, well 
cultivated, and at this moment loaded with the riches of the early 
harvest. The hands which till them are free owners of the soil, 
enjoying equal rights, and protected by law from oppression and 
tyranny. Look to the thousand vessels in our sight, filling the har- 
bor, or covering the neighboring sea. They are the instruments 
of a profitable commerce, carried on by men who know that the 
profits of their hardy enterprize, when they make them, are their 
own ; and this commerce is encouraged and regulated by wise laws, 
and defend(;d, when need be, by the valor and patriotism of the 
country. Look to that fair city, the abode of so much diffused 
wealth, so much general happiness and comfort ; so much personal 
independence, and so nmch general knowledge. She fears no 
forced contributions, no siege or sacking from military leaders of 
rival factions. The hundred temples, in which her citizens worship 
God, are in no danger of sacrilege. The regular administration of 
the laws encounters no obstacle. The long processions of children 
and youth, which you see this day, issuing by thousands from the 
free schools, prove the care and anxiety, with which a popular gov- 
ernment provides for the education and morals of the people. 
Everywhere there is order ; everywhere there is security. Every- 
where the law reaches to the highest, and reaches to the lowest, to 
protect him in his rights, and to restrain him from wrong ; and over 



16 

all hovers liberty, that liberty which our fathers fought, and fell for, 
on this very spot, with her eye ever watchful, and her eagle wing 
ever wide outspread. 

The colonies of Spain, from their origin to their end were sub- 
ject to the sovereign authority of the kingdom. Their government, 
as well as their commerce, was a strict home monopoly. If we add 
to this, the established usage of filling important posts in the ad- 
ministration of the colonies, exclusively by natives of old Spain, 
thus cutting off forever, all hopes of honorable preferment from 
every man born in the western hemisphere, causes enough rise up 
before us at once, to account fully for the subsequent history and 
character of these provinces. The Viceroys and Provincial Gov- 
ernors of Spain were never at home, in their governments in Amer- 
ica. They did not feel that they were of the people, whom they 
governed. Their official character and employment have a good 
deal of resemblance to those of the Pro-consuls of Rome, in Asia, 
Sicily and Gaul ; but obviously no resemblance to those of Carver 
and Winthrop, and very little to those of the Governors of Virginia 
after that colony had established a popular house of Burgesses. 

The English colonists in America, generally speaking, were men 
who were seeking new homes in a new world. They brought with 
them their families and all that was most dear to them. This was 
especially the case with the colonists of Plymouth and Massachu- 
setts. Many of them were educated men, and all possessed their 
full share, according to their social condition, of the knowledge and 
attainments of that age. The distinctive characteristic of their set- 
tlement, is the introduction of the civilization of Europe into a 
wilderness, without bringing with it the political institutions of Eu- 
ro|)e. The arts, sciences, and literature of England came over 
will) the settlers. That great portion of the common law, which 
regulates the social and personal relations and conduct of men, 
came also. The jury came ; the habeas corpus came ; the testa- 
mentary power came, and the law of inheritance and descent came 
also, except that part of it which recognises the rights of primogen- 
iture, which either did not come at all, or soon gave way to the 
rule of equal partition of estates among children. But the monar- 
chy did not come, nor the aristocracy, nor the church as an estate 
of the realm. Political institutions were to be framed anew, such 
as should be adapted to the state of things. But it could not be 
doubtful, what should be the nature and character of these institu- 
tions. A general social equality prevailed among the settlers, and 
an equality of political rights seemed the natural, if not the neces- 
sary consequence. After forty years of revolution, violence and 
war, the people of France have placed at the head of the funda- 
mental instrument of their government, as the great boon obtained 
by all their sufferings and sacrifices, the declaration, that all French- 
men are equal before the law. What France had reached only by 
the expenditure of so much blood and treasure, and the exhibition 
of so much crime, the English colonists obtained, by simply chang- 
ing their place, carrying with them the intellectual and moral cul- 



17 

ture of Europe, and the personal and social relations to which they 
were accustomed, but leaving behind their political institutions. It 
has been said with much veracity, that the felicity of the American 
colonists consisted in their escape from the past. This is true, so 
far as respects political establishments, but no further. They 
brought with them a full portion of all the riches of the past, in 
science, in art, in morals, religion and literature. The Bible came 
with them. And it is not to be doubted, that to the free and uni- 
versal reading of the Bible, is to be ascribed in that age, ascribed 
in every age, that men were much indebted for right views of civil 
liberty. The Bible is a book of faith, and a book of doctrine ; but 
it is also a book, which teaches man his own individual responsi- 
bility, his own dignity, and his equality with his fellow man. Ba- 
con, and Locke, and Milton and Shakspeare also came with them. 
They came to form new political systems, but all that belonged to 
cultivated man, to family, to neighborhood, to social relations, ac- 
companied them. In the Doric phrase of one of our own histo- 
rians, " they came to settle on bare creation ;" but their settlement 
in the wilderness, nevertheless, was not a lodgment of nominal 
tribes, a mere resting-place of i-oaming savages. It was the begin- 
ning of a permanent community, the fixed residence of cultivated 
men. Not only was English literature read, but English, good 
English, was spoken and written, before the axe had made way to 
let in the sun upon the habitations and fields of the settlers. And 
whatever may be said to the contrary, a correct use of the English 
language is, at this day, more general throughout the United Slates 
than it is throughout England herself. But another grand charac- 
teristic is, that in the English colonies, political affairs were left to 
be managed by the colonists themselves. There is another fact 
wholly distinguishing them in character as it has distinguished them 
in fortune, from the colonists of Spain. Here lies the foundation of 
that experience in self-government, which had preserved order, and 
security, and regularity amidst the play of popular institutions. 
Home government was the secret of the prosperity of the North 
American settlements. The more distinguished of the New Eng- 
land colonists, with a most remarkable sagacity, and a long-sighted 
reach into futurity, refused to come to xVmerica, unless they could 
bring with them charters providing for the administration of their 
affairs in this country. They saw, from the first, the evils of being 
governed in a new world by counsels held in the old. Acknow- 
ledging the general superiority of the crown, they still insisted on 
the right of passing local laws, and of local administration. And 
history teaches us the justice and the value of this determination, in 
the example of Virginia. The attempts early to settle that colony 
failed, sometimes with the most melancholy and fatal consequences, 
from want of knowledge, care and attention on the part of those 
who had the charge of their affairs in England ; and it was only 
after the issuing of the third charter, that its prosperity fairly com- 
menced. The cause was that, by that third charter, the People of 
Virginia, (for by this time they so deserve to be called,) were al- 
3 



18 

lowed to constitute and establish the first popular representative 
Assembly, which ever convened on this continent, the Virginia 
House of Burgesses. 

Here then, are the great elements of our political system origi- 
nally Introduced, early in operation, and ready to be developed, 
more and more as the progress of events should justify or demand. 

Escape from the existing political systems of Europe ; but the 
continued enjoyment of its sciences and arts, its literature, and its 
manners ; with a series of improvements upon its religious and 
moral sentiments and habits ; Home governments ; or the power of 
passing local laws, with a local administration. 

Equality of rights. 

Representative systems. 

Free forms of Government, founded on popular Representation. 

Few topics are more inviting, or more fit for philosophical dis- 
cussion, than the action and influence of the new world upon the 
old ; or the contributions of America to Europe. 

Her obligations to Europe for science and art, laws, literature 
and manners, America acknowledges as she ought, with respect 
and gratitude. And the people of the United States, descendants 
of the English stock, grateful for the treasures of knowledge de- 
rived from their English ancestors, acknowledge also, with thanks 
and filial regard, that among those ancestors, under the culture of 
Hampden and Sydney, and other assiduous friends, that seed of 
popular liberty first germinated, which on our soil has shot up to 
its full height, until its branches overshadow all the land. 

But America has not failed to make retui'ns. If she has not 
cancelled the obligation, or equalled it by others of like weight, she 
has, at least, made respectable advances, and some approaches 
towards equality. And she admits, that standing in the midst of 
civilized nations, and in a civilized age — a nation among nations — 
there is a high part which she is expected to act, for the general 
advance of human interests and human welfare. 

American mines have filled the mints of Europe with the pre- 
cious metals. The productions of the American soil and climate 
have poured out their abundance of luxuries for the tables of the 
rich, and of necessaries for the sustenance of the poor. Birds and 
animals of beauty and value have been added to the European 
stocks ; and transplantations from the transceudant and unequalled 
riches of our forests have mingled themselves profusely with the 
elms, and ashes, and druical oaks of England. 

America has made contributions far more vast. Who can esti- 
mate the amount, or the value, of the augmentation of the com- 
merce of the world, that has i-esulted from America.'' Who can 
imagine to himself, what would be the shock to the Eastern Conti- 
nent, if the Atlantic were no longer traversable, or there were no 
longer American productions, or American markets .'' 

But America exercises influences, or holds out examples for the 
consideration of the Old World, of a much higher, because they 
are of a moral and political character. 



19 

America has furnished to Europe proof of the fact that popular 
institutions, founded on equality and the principle of representation, 
are capahle of maintaining governments — able to secure the rights 
of person, property and reputatioft. 

America has proved that it is practicable to elevate the mass of 
mankind — that portion which in Europe is called the laboring, or 
lower class — to raise them to self respect, to make them compe- 
tent to act a part in the great right, and great duty, of self-govern- 
ment ; and this she h^s proved may be done by education and the 
diffusion of knowledge. She holds out an example, a thousand 
times more enchanting than ever was pi'esented before, to those 
nine-tenths of the human race who are born without hereditary for- 
tune or hereditary rank. 

America has furnished to the world the character of Washing- 
ton ! And if our American institutions had done nothing else, 
that alone would have entitled them to the respect of mankind. 

Washington ! " First in war, first in peace, and first in the 
hearts of his countrymen!" Washington is all our own! The 
enthusiastic veneration and regard in which the people of the United 
States bold him, prove them to be worthy of such a countryman ; 
while his reputation abroad reflects the highest honor on his coun- 
try and its institutions. I would cheerfully put the question to-day 
to the intelligence of Europe and the world, what character of the 
century, upon the whole, stands out in the relief of history, most 
pure, most respectable, most sublime ; and I doubt not, that by a 
suffrage approaching to unanimity, the answer would be Washing- 
ton ! 

This structure, by its uprightness, its solidity, its durability, is no 
unfit emblem of his character. His public virtues and public prin- 
ciples were as firm as the earth on which it stands; his personal 
motives, as pure as the serene heaven in which its summit is lost. 
But, indeed, though a fit, it is an inadequate emblem. Towering 
high above the column which our hands have builded, beheld, not 
by the inhabitants of a single city or a single State — ascends the 
colossal grandeur of his character, and his life. In all the constitu- 
ents of the one — in all the acts of the other — in all its titles to 
immortal love, admiration and renown — it is an American pro- 
duction. It is the embodiment and vindication of our transatlantic 
liberty. Born upon our soil — of parents also born upon it — 
never for a moment having had a sight of the old world — in- 
structed, according to the modes of his time, only in the spare, 
plain, but wholesome elementary knowledge which our institutions 
provide for the children of the people — growing up beneath and 
penetrated by the genuine influences of American society — grow- 
ing up amidst our expanding, but not luxurious, civilization — par- 
taking in our great destiny of labor, our long contest with unre- 
claimed nature and uncivilized man — our agony of glory, the war 
of independence — our great victory of peace, the formation of 
the Union and the establishment of the Constitution — he is all — 
all our own ! That crowded and glorious life — 



20 

" Where multitudes of virtues passed along, 
Each pressing foremost in the mighty throng 
Contending to be seen, then making room 
For greater multitudes that were to come ; — " 

that life was the life of an American citizen. 

I claim him for America. In all the perils, in every darkened 
moment of tlie state, in the midst of the reproaches of enemies and 
the misgiving of friends — I turn to that transcendant name for 
courage and for consolation. To him who denies, or doubts whe- 
ther our fervid liberty can be combined with law, with order, with 
the security of property, with the pursuits and advancement of hap- 
piness — to him who denies that our institutions are capable of pro- 
ducing exaltation of soul and the passion of true glory — to him 
who denies that we have contributed anything to the stock of great 
lessons and great examples — to all these I reply by pointing to 
Washington ! 

And now, friends and fellow-citizens, it is time to bring this dis- 
course to a close. 

We have indulged in gratifying recollections of the past, in the 
prosperity and pleasures of the present, and in high hopes of the 
future. But let us remember that we have duties and obligations 
to perform, corresponding to the blessings which we enjoy. Let 
us remember the trust, the sacred trust, attaching to the rich in- 
heritance which we have received from our fathers. Let us feel 
our personal responsibility, to the full extent of our power and in- 
fluence, for the preservation of our institutions of civil and religious 
liberty. And let us remember that it is only religion, and morals, 
and knowledge, that can make men respectable and happy under 
any form of government. Let us hold fast the great truth that 
communities are responsible, as well as individuals ; that no gov- 
ernment is respectable which is not just; that without unspotted 
purity of public faith, without sacred public principle, fidelity and 
honor — no mere forms of government, no machinery of laws, can 
give dignity to political society. In our day and generation let us 
seek to raise and improve the moral sentiment, so that we may 
look, not for a degraded, but for an elevated and improved future. 
And when we, and our children, shall all have been consigned to 
the house appointed for all living, may love of country — and pride 
of country — glow with equal fervor among those to whom our 
names anrl our blood shall have descended ! And then, when 
honored and decrepid age shall lean against the base of this monu- 
ment, and troops of ingenuous youth shall be gathered round it, 
and when the one shall speak to the other of its objects, the pur- 
poses of its construction, and the great and glorious events with 
which it is connected — there shall rise, from every youthful 
breast, the ejaculation — " thank God, I — I also — am an Ameri- 
can." 



Let it rise, till it meet the sun in his coming ; let the earliest 
light ok the morning gild it, and parting day 
linger and play on its summit." 



AN 



ADDRESS 



DELIVERED AT THE LAYING OF THE CORNER STONE 



BUNKER HILL MONUMENT, 



JUNE 17, 1825. 



BY DANIEL WEBSTER. 



BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED BY TAPFAN & DEN NET, 

114 Washington Street. 
1843. 

[Entered according to an Act^ etcl 



ADDRESS 



DELIVERED AT THE LAYING OF THE CORNER STONE OF THE BUN 
KER HILL MONUMENT. JUNE 17, 1825, 



This uncounted multitude before me, and around me, proves the 
feeling which the occasion has excited. These thousands of human 
faces, glowing with sympathy and joy, and, from the impulses of a 
common gratitude, turned reverently to heaven, in this spacious 
temple of the firmament, proclaim that the day, the place, and the 
purpose of our assembling have made a deep impression on our 
hearts. 

If, indeed, there be anything in local association fit to affect the 
mind of man, we need not strive to repress the emotions which agi- 
tate us here. We are among the sepulchres of our fathers. We 
are on ground, distinguished by their valor, their constancy, and the 
shedding of their blood. We are here, not to fix an uncertain date 
in our annals, nor to draw into notice an obscure and unknown 
spot. If our humble purpose had never been conceived, if we our- 
selves had never been born, the 17th of June 1775 would have been 
a day on which all subsequent history would have poured its light, 
and the eminence where we stand, a point of attraction to the eyes 
of successive generations. But we are Americans. We live in 
what may be called the early age of this great continent; and we 
know that our posterity, through all time, are here to suffer and en- 
joy the allotments of humanity. We see before us a propable train 
of great events; we know that our own fortunes have been happily 
cast; and it is natural, therefore, that we should be moved by the 
contemplation of occurrences which have guided our destiny before 
many of us were born, and settled the condition in which we should 
pass that portion of our existence, which God allows to men on earth. 

We do not read even of the discovery of this continent, without 
feeling something of a personal interest in the event; without being 
reminded how much it has affected our own fortunes, and our own 
existence. It is more impossible for us, therefore, than for others, 
to contemplate with unaffected minds that interesting, I may say, 
that most touching and pathetic scene, when the great Discoverer 
of America stood on the deck of his shattered bark, the shades of 
night falling on the sea, yet no man sleeping; tossed on the billows 



58 

of an unknown ocean, yet the stronger billows of alternate hope and 
despair tossing his own troubled thoughts; extending forward his 
harassed frame, straining westward his anxious and eager eyes, till 
Heaven at last granted him a moment of rapture and ecstasy, in 
blessing his vision with the sight of the unknown world. 

Nearer to our times, more closely connected with our fates, and 
therefore still more interesting to our feelings and affections, is the 
settlement of our own country by colonists from England. We 
cherish every memorial of these worthy ancestors; we celebrate 
their patience and fortitude; we admire their daring enterprise; we 
teach our children to venerate their piety; and we are justly proud 
of being descended from men, who. have set the world an example 
of founding civil institutions on the great and united principles of 
human freedom and human knowledge. To us, their children, the 
story of their labors and sufferings can never be without its interest. 
We shall not stand unmoved on the shore of Plymouth, while the 
sea continues to wash it; nor will our brethren in another early and 
ancient colony, forget the place of its first establishment, till their 
river shall cease to flow by it. No vigor of youth, no maturity of 
manhood, will lead the nation to forget the spots where its infancy 
was cradled and defended. 

But the great event, in the history of the continent, which we are 
now met here to commemorate; that prodigy of modern times, at 
once the wonder and the blessing of the world, is the American 
Revolution. In a day of extraordinary prosperity and happiness, 
of high national honor, distinction, and power, we are brought to- 
gether, in this place, by our love of country, by our admiration of 
exalted character, by our gratitude for signal services and patriotic 
devotion. 

The society, whose organ I am, was formed for the purpose of 
rearing some honorable and durable monument to the memory of 
the early friends of American Independence. They have thought, 
that for this object no time could be more propitious, than the pres- 
ent prosperous and peaceful period; that no place could claim pref- 
erence over this memorable spot; and that no day could be more 
auspicious to the undertaking, than the anniversary of the battle 
which was here fought. The foundation of that monument we have 
now laid. With solemnities suited to the occasion, with prayers to 
Almighty God for his blessing, and in the midst of this cloud of wit- 
nesses, we have begun the work. We trust it will be prosecuted, 
and that springing from a broad foundation, rising high in massive 
solidity and unadorned grandeur, it may remain, as long as Heaven 
permits the works of man to last, a fit emblem, both of the events 
in memory of which it is raised, and of the gratitude of those who 
have reared it. 

We know, indeed, that the record of illustrious actions is most 
safely deposited in the universal remembrance of mankind. We 
know, that if we could cause this structure to ascend, not only till 
it reached the skies, but till it pierced them, its broad surfaces could 
still contain but part of that, which, in an age of knowledge, hath 
already been spread over the earth, and which history charges itself 



59 

with making known to all future times. We know, that no inscrip- 
tion on entablatures less broad than the earth itself, can carry infor- 
mation of the events we commemorate, where it has not already 
gone; and that no structure, which shall not outlive the duration of 
letters and knowledge among men, can prolong the memorial. But 
our object is, by this edifice to show our own deep sense of the val- 
ue and importance of the achievements of our ancestors; and, by 
presenting this work of gratitude to the eye, to keep alive similar 
sentiments, and to foster a constant regard for the principles of the 
Revolution. Human beings are composed not of reason only, but 
of imagination also, and sentiment; and that is neither wasted nor 
misapplied which is appropriated to the purpose of giving right di- 
rection to sentiments, and opening proper springs of feeling in the 
heart. Let it not be supposed that our object is to perpetuate na- 
tional hostility, or even to cherish a mere military spirit. It is high- 
er, purer, nobler. We consecrate our work to the spirit of national 
independence, and we wish that the light of peace may rest upon it 
forever. We rear a memorial of our conviction of that unmeasured 
benefit, which has been conferred on our own land, and of the hap- 
py influences, which have been produced, by the same events, on 
the general interests of mankind. We come, as Americans, to mark 
a spot, which must forever be dear to us and our posterity. We 
wish, that whosoever, in all coming time, shall turn his eye hither, 
may behold that the place is not undistinguished, where the first 
great battle of the Revolution was fought. We wish, that this struc- 
ture may proclaim the magnitude and importance of that event, to 
every class and every age. We wish, that infancy may learn the 
purpose of its erection from maternal lips, and that weary and with- 
ered age may behold it, and be solaced by the recollections which 
it suggests. We wish, that labor may look up here, and be proud, 
in the midst of its toil. We wish, that, in those days of disaster, 
which, as they come on all nations, must be expected to come on us 
also, desponding patriotism may turn its eyes hitherward, and be 
assured that the foundations of our national power still stand strong. 
We wish, that this column, rising towards heaven among the point- 
ed spires of so many temples dedicated to God, may contribute also 
to produce, in all minds, a pious feeling of dependence and gratitude. 
We wish, finally, that the last object on the sight of him who leaves 
his native shore, and the first to gladden his who revisits it, may be 
something which shall remind him of the liberty and the glory of 
his country. Let it rise, till it meet the sun in his coming; let the 
earliest light of the morning gild it, and parting day linger and play 
on its summit. 

We live in a most extraordinary age. Events so various and so 
important, that they might crowd and distinguish centuries, are, in 
our times, compressed within the compass of a single life. When 
has it happened that history has had so much to record, in the same 
term of years, as since the 17th of June 1775? Our own Revolu- 
tion, which, under other circumstances, might itself have been ex- 
pected to occasion a war of half a century, has been achieved; 
twenty-four sovereign and independent states erected; and a general 



60 

government established over them, so safe, so wise, so free, so prac- 
tical, that we might well wonder its establishment should have been 
accomplished so soon, were it not far the greater wonder that it 
should have been established at all. Two or three millions of peo- 
ple have been augmented to twelve; and the great forests of the 
West prostrated beneath the arm of successful industry; and the 
dwellers on the banks of the Ohio and the Mississippi, become the 
fellow citizens and neighbours of those who cultivate the hills of 
JVew England. We have a commerce, that leaves no sea unex- 
plored; navies, which take no law from superior force; revenues, 
adequate to all the exigencies of government, almost without taxa- 
tion; and peace with all nations, founded on equal rights and mutual 
respect. 

Europe, within the same period, has been agitated by a mighty 
revolution, which, while it has been felt in the individual condition 
and happiness of almost every man, has shaken to the centre her 
political fabric, and dashed against one another thrones, which had 
stood tranquil for ages. On this, our continent, our own example 
has been followed; and colonies have sprung up to be nations. Un- 
accustomed sounds of liberty and free government have reached us 
from beyond the track of the sun; and at this moment the dominion 
of European power, in this continent, from the place where we stand 
to the south pole, is annihilated forever. 

In the meantime, both in Europe and America, such has been 
the general progress of knowledge; such the improvements in leg- 
islation, in commerce, in the arts, in letters, and above all in liberal 
ideas, and the general spirit of the age, that the whole world seems 
changed. 

Yet, notwithstanding that this is but a faint abstract of the things 
which have happened since the day of the battle of Bunker Hill, we 
are but fifty years removed from it; and we now stand here, to en- 
joy all the blessings of our own condition, and to look abroad on 
the brightened prospects of the world, while we hold still among us 
some of those, who were active agents in the scenes of 1775, and 
who are now here, from every quarter of New England, to visit, 
once more, and under circumstances so affecting, I had almost said 
so overwhelming, this renowned theatre of their courage and patri 
otism. 

Venerable men! you have come down to us, from a former gen- 
eration. Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives, that 
you might behold this joyous day. You are now, where you stood, 
fifty years ago, this very hour, with your brothers, and your neigh- 
bours, shoulder to shoulder, in the strife for your country. Behold, 
how altered! The same heavens are indeed over your heads; the 
same ocean rolls at your feet; but all else, how changed! You hear 
now no roar of hostile cannon, you see no mixed volumes of smoke 
and flame rising from burning Charlestown. The ground strewed 
with the dead and the dying; the impetuous charge; the steady and 
successful repulse; the loud call to repeated assault; the summon- 
ing of all that is manly to repeated resistance; a thousand bosoms 
freely and fearlessly bared in an instant to whatever of terror there 



61 

may be in war and death; — all these you have witnessed, but you 
witness thera no more. All is peace. The heights of yonder me- 
tropolis, its towers and roofs, which you then saw filled with wives 
and children and countrymen in distress and terror, and looking 
with unutterable emotions for the issue of the combat, have presented 
you to-day with the sight of its whole happy population, come out 
to welcome and greet you with an universal jubilee. Yonder proud 
ships, by a felicity of position appropriately lying at the foot of this 
mount, and seeming fondly to cling around it, are not means of an- 
noyance to you, but your country's own means of distinction and 
defence. All is peace; and God has granted you this sight of your 
country's happiness, ere you slumber in the grave forever. He has 
allowed you to behold and to partake the reward of your patriotic 
toils; and he has allowed us, your sons and countrymen, to meet 
you here, and in the name of the present generation, in the name 
of your country, in the name of liberty, to thank you! 

But, alas! you are not all here! Time and the sword have thin- 
ned your ranks. Prescott, Putnam, Stark, Brooks, Read, Pome- 
roy. Bridge! our eyes seek for you in vain amidst this broken band. 
You are gathered to your fathers, and live only to your country in 
her grateful remembrance, and your own bright example. But let 
us not too much grieve, that you have met the common fate of men. 
You lived, at least, long enough to know that your work had been 
nobly and successfully accomplished. You lived to see your coun- 
try's independence established, and to sheathe your swords from 
war. On the Ught of Liberty you saw arise the light of Peace, 

' anotlier morn, 
Risen on mid-noon ; ' — 

and the sky, on which you closed your eyes, was cloudless. 

But — ah! — Him! the first great Martyr in this great cause! 
Him! the premature victim of his own self-devoting heart! Him! 
the head of our civil councils, and the destined leader of our mili- 
tary bands; whom nothing brought hither, but the unquenchable 
fire of his own spirit; Him! cut otf by Providence, in the hour of 
overwhelming anxiety and thick gloom; falling, ere he saw the star 
of his country rise; pouring out his generous blood, like water, be- 
fore he knew whether it would fertilize a land of freedom or of bon- 
dage ! how shall I struggle with the emotions, that stifle the utter- 
ance of thy name! — Our poor work may perish; but thine shall 
endure! This monument may moulder away; the solid ground it 
rests upon may sink down to a level with the sea; but thy memory 
shall not fail! Wheresoever among men a heart shall be found, 
that beats to the transports of patriotism and liberty, its aspirations 
shall be to claim kindred with thy spirit! 

But the scene amidst which we stand does not permit us to con- 
fine our thoughts or our sympathies to those fearless spirits, who 
hazarded or lost their lives on this consecrated spot. We have the 
happiness to rejoice here in the presence of a most worthy repre- 
sentation of the survivors of the whole Revolutionary Army. 

F 



62 

Veterans! you are the remnant of many a well fought field. 
You bring with you marks of honor from Trenton and Monmouth, 
from Yorktown, Camden, Bennington, and Saratoga. Veterans 
OF HALF A century! when in your youthful days, you put everything 
at hazard in your country's cause, good as that cause was, and san- 
guine as youth is, still your fondest hopes did not stretch onward to an 
hour like this! At a period to which you could not reasonably have 
expected to arrive; at a moment of national prosperity, such as you 
could never have foreseen, you are now met, here, to enjoy the fel- 
lowship of old soldiers, and to receive the overflowings of an univer- 
sal gratitude. 

But your agitated countenances and your heaving breasts inform 
me that even this is not an unmixed joy. I perceive that a tumult 
of contending feelings rushes upon you. The images of the dead, 
as well as the persons of the living, throng to your embraces. The 
scene overwhelms you, and I turn from it. May the Father of all 
mercies smile upon your declining years, and bless them! And 
when you shall here have exchanged your embraces; when you 
shall once more have pressed the hands which have been so often 
extended to give succour in adversity, or grasped in the exultation 
of victory; then look abroad into this lovely land, which your young 
valor defended, and mark the happiness with which it is filled; yea, 
look abroad into the whole earth, and see what a name you have 
contributed to give to your country, and what a praise you have 
added to freedom, and then rejoice in the sympathy and gratitude, 
which beam upon your last days from the improved condition of 
mankind. 

The occasion does not require of me any particular account of 
the battle of the 17th of June, nor any detailed narrative of the 
events which immediately preceded it. These are familiarly known 
to all. In the progress of the great and interesting controversy, 
Massachusetts and the town of Boston had become early and marked 
objects of the displeasure of the British Parliament. This had 
been manifested, in the Act for altering the Government of the 
Province, and in that for shutting up the Port of Boston. Nothing 
sheds more honor on our early history, and nothing better shows 
how little the feelings and sentiments of the colonies were known 
or regarded in England, than the impression which these measures 
everywhere produced in America. It had been anticipated, that 
while the other colonies would be terrified by the severity of the 
punishment inflicted on Massachusetts, the other seaports would be 
governed by a mere spirit of gain; and that, as Boston was now cut off" 
from all commerce, the unexpected advantage, which this blow on 
her was calculated to confer on other towns, would be greedily en- 
joyed. How miserably such reasoners deceived themselves! How 
little they knew of the depth, and the strength, and the intenseness 
of that feeling of resistance to illegal acts of power, which posses- 
sed the whole American people! Everywhere the unworthy boon 
was rejected with scorn. The fortunate occasion was seized, every- 
where, to show to the whole world, that the colonies were swayed by 
no local interest, no partial interest, no selfish interest. The tempt- 



63 

ation to profit by the punishment of Boston was strongest to our 
neighbours of Salem. Yet Salem was precisely the place, where 
this miserable proffer was spurned, in a tone of the most lofty self- 
respect, and the most indignant patriotism. " We are deeply affect- 
ed," said its inhabitants, " with the sense of our public calamities; 
but the miseries that are now rapidly hastening on our brethren in 
the capital of the Province, greatly excite our commiseration. By 
shutting up the port of Boston, some imagine that the course of trade 
might be turned hither and to our benefit; but we must be dead to 
every idea of justice, lost to all feelings of humanity, could we in- 
dulge a thought to seize on wealth, and raise our fortunes on the ruin 
of our suffering neighbours." These noble sentiments were not 
confined to our immediate vicinity. In that day of general affection 
and brotherhood, the blow given to Boston smote on every patriotic 
heart, from one end of the country to the other Virginia and the 
Carolinas, as well as Connecticut and New Hampshire, felt and 
proclaimed the cause to be their own. The Continental Congress, 
then holding its first session in Philadelphia, expressed its sympathy 
for the suffering inhabitants of Boston, and addresses Avere received 
from all quarters, assuring them that the cause was a common one, 
and should be met by common efforts and common sacrifices. The 
Congress of Massachusetts responded to these assurances; and in an 
address to the Congress at Philadelphia, bearing the official signa- 
ture, perhaps among the last, of the immortal Warren, notwithstand- 
ing the severity of its suffering and the magnitude of the dangers 
which threatened it, it was declared, that this colony " is ready, at 
all times, to spend and to be spent in the cause of America." 

But the hour drew nigh, which was to put professions to the proof, 
and to determine whether the authors of these mutual pledges were 
ready to seal them in blood. The tidings of Lexington and Concord 
had no sooner spread, than it was universally felt, that the time was 
at last come for action. A spirit pervaded all ranks, not transient, 
not boisterous, but deep, solemn, determined, 

" totainque iiifusa per artus 
Mens agitat molem, et msigno se corpore miscet." 

War, on their own soil and at their own doors, was, indeed, a 
strange work to the yeomanry of New England ; but their consciences 
were convinced of its necessity, their country called them to it, and 
they did not withhold themselves from the perilous trial. The ordi- 
nary occupations of life were abandoned ; the plough was staid in the 
unfinished furrow; wives gave up their husbands, and mothers gave 
up their sons, to the battles of a civil war. Death might come, in 
honor, on the field; it might come, in disgrace, on the scaffold. Foi 
either and for both they were prepared. The sentiment of Quincy 
was full in their hearts. " Blandishments," said that distinguished 
son of genius and patriotism, " will not fascinate us, nor will threats 
of a halter intimidate; for, under God, we are determined, that where- 
soever, whensoever, or howsoever we shall be called to make our 
exit, we will die free men." 

The 17th of June saw the four New England colonies standing 
here, side by side, to triumph or to fall together; and there was with 



64 

them from that moment to the end of the war, what I hope will re- 
main with them forever, one cause, one country, one heart. 

The battle of Bunker Hill was attended with the most important 
effects beyond its immediate result as a military engagement. It 
created at once a state of open, public war. There could now be 
no longer a question of proceeding against individuals, as guilty of 
treason or rebellion. That fearful crisis was past. The appeal now 
lay to the sword, and the only question was, whether the spirit and 
the resources of the people would hold out, till the object should be 
accomplished. Nor were its general consequences confined to our 
own country. The previous proceedings of the colonies, their ap- 
peals, resolutions, and addresses, had made their cause known to 
Europe. Without boasting, we may say, that in no age or country, 
has the public cause been maintained with more force of argument, 
more power of illustration, or more of that persuasion which excited 
feeling and elevated principle can alone bestow, than the revolution- 
ary state papers exhibit. These papers will forever deserve to be 
studied, not only for the spirit which they breathe, but for the ability 
with which they were written. 

To this able vindication of their cause, the colonies had now ad- 
ded a practical and severe proof of their own true devotion to it, 
and evidence also of the power which they could bring to its support. 
All now saw, that if America fell, she would not fall without a strug- 
gle. Men felt sympathy and regard, as well as surprise, when they 
beheld these infant states, remote, unknown, unaided, encounter the 
power of England, and in the first considerable battle, leave more 
of their enemies dead on the field, in proportion to the number of 
combatants, than they had recently known in the wars of Europe. 

Information of these events, circulating through Europe, at length 
reached the ears of one who now hears me. He has not forgotten 
the emotion, which the fame of Bunker Hill, and the name of Warren, 
excited in his youthful breast. 

Sir, we are assembled to commemorate the establishment of great 
public principles of liberty, and to do honor to the distinguished 
dead. The occasion is too severe for eulogy to the living. But, 
sir, your interesting relation to this country, the peculiar circum- 
stances which surround you and surround us, call on me to express 
the happiness which we derive from your presence and aid in this 
solemn commemoration. 

Fortunate, fortunate man! with what measure of devotion will you 
not thank God, for the circumstances of your extraordinary life! 
You are connected with both hemispheres and with two generations. 
Heaven saw fit to ordain, that the electric spark of Liberty should 
be conducted, through you, from the new world to the old; and we, 
who are now here to perform this duty of patriotism, have all of us 
long ago received it in charge from our fathers to cherish your name 
and your virtues. You will account it an instance of your good for- 
tune, sir, that you crossed the seas to visit us at a time which ena- 
bles you to be present at this solemnity. You now behold the field, 
the renown of which reached you in the heart of France, and caus- 
ed a thrill in your ardent bosom. You see the lines of the little 



65 

redoubt thrown up by the incredible diligence of Prescott; defended, 
to the last extremity, by his lion-hearted valor; and within which the 
corner stone of our monument has now taken its position. You see 
where Warren fell, and where Parker, Gardner, McCleary, Moore, 
and other early patriots fell with him. Those who survived that 
day, and whose lives have been prolonged to the present hour, are 
now around you. Some of them you have known in the trying 
scenes of the war. Behold! they now stretch forth their feeble 
arms to embrace you. Behold! they raise their trembling voices 
to invoke the blessing of God on you, and yours, forever. 

Sir, you have assisted us in laying the foundation of this edifice. 
You have heard us rehearse, with our feeble commendation, the names 
of departed patriots. Sir, monuments and eulogy belong to the dead. 
We give them, this day, to Warren and his associates. On other 
occasions they have been given to your more immediate companions 
in arms, to Washington, to Greene, to Gates, Sullivan, and Lincoln. 
Sir, we have become reluctant to grant these, our highest and last 
honors, further. We would gladly hold them yet back from the lit- 
tle remnant of that immortal band. Scriis in coclum redeas. Illus- 
trious as are your merits, yet far, oh, very far distant be the day, 
when any inscription shall bear your name, or any tongue pronounce 
its eulogy! 

The leading reflection, to which this occasion seems to invite us, 
respects the great changes which have happened in the fifty years, 
since the battle of Bunker Hill was fought. And it peculiarly marks 
the character of the present age, that, in looking at these changes, 
and in estimating their effect on our condition, we are obliged 
to consider, not what has been done in our own country only, but 
in others also. In these interesting times, while nations are making 
separate and individual advances in improvement, they make, too, a 
common progress; like vessels on a common tide, propelled by the 
gales at different rates, according to their several structure and man- 
agement, but all moved forward by one mighty current beneath, 
strong enough to bear onward whatever does not sink beneath it. 

A chief distinction of the present day is a community of opinions 
and knowledge amongst men, in different nations, existing in a de- 
gree heretofore unknown. Knowledge has, in our time, triumphed, 
and is triumphing, over distance, over difl^erence of languages, over 
diversity of habits, over prejudice, and over bigotry. The civilized 
and Christian world is fast learning the great lesson, that difference 
of nation does not imply necessary hostility, and that all contact need 
not be war. The whole world is becoming a common field for in- 
tellect to act in. Energy of mind, genius, power, wheresoever it 
exists, may speak out in any tongue, and the world will hear it. A 
great chord of sentiment and feeling runs through two continents, 
and vibrates over both. Every breeze wafts intelligence from coun- 
try to country; every wave rolls it; all give it forth, and all in turn 
receive it. There is a vast commerce of ideas; there are marts and 
exchanges for intellectual discoveries, and a wonderful fellowship of 
those individual intelligences which make up the mind and opinion 
of the age. Mind is the great lever of all things; human thought is 



9 F 



# 



66 

the process by which human ends are ultimately answered; and the 
diffusion of knowledge, so astonishing in the last half century, has 
rendered innumerable minds, variously gifted by nature, competent 
to be competitors, or fellow-workers, on the theatre of intellectual 
operation. 

From these causes, important improvements have taken place in 
the personal condition of individuals. Generally speaking, man- 
kind are not only better fed, and better clothed, but they are able 
also to enjoy more leisure; they possess more refinement and more 
self-respect. A superior tone of education, manners, and habits 
prevails. This remark, most true in its application to our own coun- 
try, is also partly true, when applied elsewhere. It is proved by 
the vastly augmented consumption of those articles of manufacture 
and of commerce, which contribute to the comforts and the decen- 
cies of life; an augmentation which has far outrun the progress of 
population. And while the unexampled and almost incredible use 
of machinery would seem to supply the place of labor, labor still 
finds its occupation and its reward; so wisely has Providence adjust- 
ed men's wants and desires to their condition and their capacity. 

Any adequate survey, however, of the progress made in the last 
half century, in the polite and the mechanic arts, in machinery and 
manufactures, in commerce and agriculture, in letters and in science, 
would require volumes. I must abstain wholly from these subjects, 
and turn, for a moment, to the contemplation of what has been done 
on the great question of politics and government. This is the mas- 
ter topic of the age; and during the whole fifty years, it has intensely 
occupied the thoughts of men. The nature of civil government, 
its ends and uses, have been canvassed and investigated; ancient 
opinions attacked and defended; new ideas recommended and resist- 
ed, by whatever power the mind of man could bring to the contro- 
versy. From the closet and the public halls the debate has been 
transferred to the field; and the world has been shaken by wars of 
unexampled magnitude, and the greatest variety of fortune. A day 
of peace has at length succeeded; and now that the strife has sub- 
sided, and the smoke cleared away, we may begin to see what has 
actually been done, permanently changing the state and condition 
of human society. And without dwelling on particular circum- 
stances, it is most apparent, that, from the beforementioncd causes 
of augmented knowledge and improved individual condition, a real, 
substantial, and important change has taken place, and is taking 
place, greatly beneficial, on the whole, to human liberty and human 
happiness. 

The great wheel of political revolution began to move in America. 
Here its rotation was guarded, regular, and safe. Transferred to 
the other continent, from unfortunate but natural causes, it received 
an irregular and violent impulse; it whirled along with a fearful ce- 
lerity; till at length, like the chariot wheels in the races of antiquity, 
it took fire from the rapidity of its own motion, and blazed onward, 
spreading conflagration and terror around. 

We learn from the result of this experiment, how fortunate was 
our own condition, and how admirably the character of our people 
was calculated for making the great example of popular govern- 



67 

hients. The possession of power did not turn the heads of the 
American people, for they had long been in the habit of exercising 
a great portion of self-control. Although the paramount authority 
of the parent state existed over them, yet a large tield of legislation 
had always been open to our colonial assemblies. They were ac- 
customed to representative bodies and the forms of free government; 
they understood the doctrine of the division of power among differ- 
ent branches, and the necessity of checks on each. The charac- 
ter of our countrymen, moreover, was sober, moral, and religious; 
and there was little in the change to shock their feelings of justice 
and humanity, or even to disturb an honest prejudice. We had no 
domestic throne to overturn, no privileged orders to cast down, no 
violent changes of property to encounter. In the American Revo- 
lution, no man sought or wished for more than to defend and enjoy 
his own. None hoped for plunder or for spoil. Rapacity was un- 
known to it; the axe was not among the instruments of its accom- 
plishment; and we all know that it could not have lived a single day 
under any well founded imputation of possessing a tendency ad- 
verse to the Christian religion. 

It need not surprise us, that, under circumstances less auspicious, 
political revolutions elsewhere, even when well intended, have ter- 
minated differently. It is, indeed, a great achievement, it is the 
master work of the world, to establish governments entirely popular, 
on lasting foundations; nor is it easy, indeed, to introduce the popu- 
lar principle at all, into governments to which it has been altogether 
a stranger. It cannot be doubted, however, that Europe has come 
out of the contest, in which she has been so long engaged, with 
greatly superior knowledge, and, in many respects, a highly im- 
proved condition. Whatever benefit has been acquired, is likely to 
be retained, for it consists mainly in the acquisition of more en- 
lightened ideas. And although kingdoms and provinces may be 
wrested from the hands that hold them, in the same manner they 
were obtained; although ordinary and vulgar power may, in human 
affairs, be lost as it has been won; yet it is the glorious prerogative 
of the empire of knowledge, that what it gains it never loses. On 
the contrary, it increases by the multiple of its own power; all its 
ends become means; all its attainments, helps to new conquests. 
Its whole abundant harvest is but so much seed wheat, and nothing 
has ascertained, and nothing can ascertain, the amount of ultimate 
product. 

Under the influence of this rapidly increasing knowledge, the 
people have begun, in all forms of government, to think, and to 
reason, on affairs of state. Regarding government as an institution 
for the public good, they demand a knowledge of its operations, and 
a participation in its exercise. A call for the representative system, 
wherever it is not enjoyed, and where there is already intelligence 
enough to estimate its value, is perseveringly made. Where men 
may speak out, they demand it; where the bayonet is at their throats, 
they pray for it. 

When Louis XIV. said, " I am the state," he expressed the es- 
sence of the doctrine of unlimited power. By the rules of that 
system, the people are disconnected from the state; they are its sub- 



68 

jects; it is their lord. These ideas, founded in the love of power, 
and long supported by the excess and the abuse of it, are yielding, 
in our age, to other opinions; and the civilized world seems at last 
to be proceeding to the conviction of that fundamental and manifest 
truth, that the powers of government are but a trust, and that they 
cannot be lawfully exercised but for the good of the community. 
As knowledge is more and more extended, this conviction becomes 
more and more general. Knowledge, in truth, is the great sun in 
the firmament. Life and power are scattered with all its beams. 
The prayer of the Grecian combatant, when enveloped in unnatural 
clouds and darkness, is the appropriate political supplication for the 
people of every country not yet blessed with free institutions; 

' Dispel this cloud, the light of heaven restore, 
Give me to see — and Ajax asks no more.' 

We may hope, that the growing influence of enlightened senti- 
ments will promote the permanent peace of the world. Wars, to 
maintain family alliances, to uphold or to cast down dynasties, to 
regulate successions to thrones, which have occupied so much room 
in the history of modern times, if not less likely to happen at all, 
will be less likely to become general and involve many nations, as 
the great principle shall be more and more established, that the in- 
terest of the world is peace, and its first great statute, that every 
nation possesses the power of establishing a government for itself 
But public opinion has attained also an influence over governments, 
which do not admit the popular principle into their organization. 
A necessary respect for the judgment of the world operates, in some 
measure, as a control over the most unlimited forms of authority. 
It is owing, perhaps, to this truth, that the interesting struggle of 
the Greeks has been suffered to go on so long, without a direct in- 
terference, either to wrest that country from its present masters, 
and add it to other powers, or to execute the system of pacification 
by force, and, with united strength, lay the neck of Christian and 
civilized Greece at the foot of the barbarian Turk. Let us thank 
God that we live in an age, when something has influence besides 
the bayonet, and when the sternest authority does not venture to 
encounter the scorching power of public reproach. Any attempt 
of the kind I have mentioned, should be met by one universal burst 
of indignation; the air of the civilized world ought to be made too 
warm to be comfortably breathed by any who would hazard it. 

It is, indeed, a touching reflection, that while, in the fulness of 
our country's happiness, we rear this monument to her honor, we 
look for instruction, in our undertaking, to a country which is now 
in fearful contest, not for works of art or memorials of glory, but 
for her own existence. Let her be assured, that she is not forgot- 
ten in the world; that her efforts are applauded, and that constant 
prayers ascend for her success. And let us cherish a confident 
hope for her final triumph. If the true spark of religious and civil 
liberty be kindled, it will burn. Human agency cannot extinguish 
it. Like the earth's central fire it may be smothered for a time; the 
ocean may overwhelm it; mountains may press it down; but its in- 
herent and unconquerable force will heave both the ocean and the 



69 

land, and at sometime or another, in some place or another, the 
volcano will break out and flame up to heaven. 

Among the great events of the half century, we must reckon, 
certainly, the Revolution of South America; and we are not likely 
to overrate the importance of that Revolution, either to the people 
of the country itself or to the rest of the world. The late Spanish 
colonies, now independent states, under circumstances less favorable, 
doubtless, than attended our own Revolution, have yet successfully 
commenced their national existence. They have accomplished the 
great object of establishing their independence; they are known and 
acknowledged in the world; and although in regard to their systems 
of government, their sentiments on religious toleration, and their pro- 
visions for public instruction, they may have yet much to learn, it 
must be admitted that they have risen to the condition of settled and 
established states, more rapidly than could have been reasonably an- 
ticipated. They already furnish an exhilarating example of the dif- 
ference between free governments and despotic misrule. Their 
commerce, at this moment, creates a new activity in all the great 
marts of tiie world. They show themselves able, by an exchange 
of commodities, to bear an useful part in the intercourse of nations. 

A new spirit of enterprise and industry begins to prevail; all the 
great interests of society receive a salutary impulse; and the progress 
of information not only testifies to an improved condition, but con- 
stitutes, itself, the highest and most essential improvement. 

When the battle of Bunker Hill was fought, the existence of 
South America was scarcely felt in the civilized world. The thir- 
teen little colonies of North America habitually called themselves 
the " Continent." Borne down by colonial subjugation, monopoly, 
and bigotry, these vast regions of the South were hardly visible 
above the horizon. But in our day there hath been, as it were, a 
new creation. The Southern Hemisphere emerges from the sea. 
Its lofty mountains begin to lilt themselves into the light of heaven; 
its broad and fertile plains stretch out, in beauty, to the eye of civ- 
ilized man, and at the mighty bidding of the voice of political liber- 
ty the waters of darkness retire. 

And, now, let us indulge an honest exultation in the conviction 
of the benefit, which the example of our country has produced, and 
is likely to produce, on human freedom and human happiness. And 
let us endeavour to comprehend, in all its magnitude, and to feel, in 
all its importance, the part assigned to us in the great drama of hu- 
man afl'airs. We are placed at the head of the system of represen- 
tative and popular governments. Tims far our example shows, that 
such governments are compatible, not only with respectability and 
power, but with repose, with peace, with security of personal rights, 
with good laws, and a just administration. 

We are not propagandists. Wherever other systems are preferred, 
either as being thought better in themselves, or as better suited to 
existing condition, we leave the preference to be enjoyed. Our his- 
tory hitherto proves, however, that the popular form is practicable, 
and that with wisdom and knowledge men may govern themselves; 
and the duty incumbent on us is, to preserve the consistency of this 



70 

cheering example, and take care that nothing may weaken its au- 
thority with the worjd. If, in our case, the Representative system 
ultimately fail, popular governments must be pronounced impossible. 
No combination of circumstances more favorable to the experiment 
can ever be expected to occur. The last hopes of mankind, there- 
fore, rest with us; and if it should be proclaimed, that our example 
had become an argument against the experiment, the knell of popu- 
lar liberty would be sounded throughout the earth. 

These are excitements to duty; but they are not suggestions of 
doubt. Our history and our condition, all that is gone before us, 
and all that surrounds us, authorise the belief, that popular govern- 
ments, though subject to occasional variations, perhaps not always 
for the better, in form, may yet, in their general character, be as 
durable and permanent as other systems. We know, indeed, that, 
in our country, any other is impossible. The Principle of Free 
Governments adheres to the American soil. It is bedded in it; im- 
movable as its mountains. 

And let the sacred obligations which have devolved on tliis gen- 
eration, and on us, sink deep into our hearts. Those are daily drop- 
ping from among us, who established our liberty and our government. 
The great trust now descends to new hands. Let us apply ourselves 
to that which is presented to us, as our appropriate object. We 
can win no laurels in a war for Independence. Earlier and worthier 
hands have gathered them all. Nor are there places for us by the 
side of Solon, and Alfred, and other founders of states. Our fath- 
ers have filled them. But there remains to us a great duty of defence 
and preservation; and there is opened to us, also, a noble pursuit, to 
which the spirit of the times strongly invites us. Our proper busi- 
ness is improvement. Let our age be the age of improvement. In 
a day of peace, let us advance the arts of peace and the works of 
peace. Let us develope the resources of our land, call forth its pow- 
ers, build up its institutions, promote all its great interests, and see 
whether we also, in our day and generation, may not perform some- 
thing worthy to be remembered. Let us cultivate a true spirit of 
union and harmony. In pursuing the great objects, which our con- 
dition points out to us, let us act under a settled conviction, and an 
habitual feeling, that these twenty-four states are one country. 
Let our conceptions be enlarged to the circle of our duties. Let 
us extend our ideas over the whole of the vast field in which we are 
called to act. Let our object be, our country, our whole country, 
AND nothing but OUR COUNTRY. And, by the blessing of God, may 
that country itself become a vast and splendid Monument, not of 
oppression and terror, but of Wisdom, of Peace, and of Liberty, 
upon which the world may gaze, with admiration, forever ! 



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